


won't let you be denied

by pageleaf



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Multi, Overstimulation, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, sexual crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf
Summary: "You said you wanted everything, right?""Yes," Costis gasps, not sure where Eugenides is leading him, but willing to follow, as always. He turns his face to the side; it's getting hard to breathe.Eugenides drops to his elbow so he can look him in the eyes. "Think you can take us both?"





	won't let you be denied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plalligator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/gifts).



> this took way too long to write, probably because i kept blushing while writing it
> 
> for plalligator, as a token of my love, as always <3
> 
> title is from "undisclosed desires" by muse; thank you to grim_lupine for looking this over!!

"Take a deep breath," Costis hears. "Relax."

"I am relaxed," he says plaintively.

He can practically feel Eugenides roll his eyes. "Your back is so stiff I'm concerned it might fold in half."

Costis huffs, and carefully unclenches his fists from the sheets, burying his face in the veritable mound of pillows at the headboard.

"Are you nervous? Having second thoughts?"

" _No_ ," Costis hisses.

"Then why so tense?" Eugenides murmurs, abruptly close enough that Costis can feel breath on his spine. He shivers.

"I want," Costis says, mouth dry. He arches slightly into the touch.

A hand presses between his shoulderblades, until Costis has no choice but to be still, chest flat against the mattress once more. "What do you want, my dear?"

"I want too much," Costis confesses to the pillows. "I want everything."

"Then everything you shall have," Eugenides says, and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. He reaches around and strokes Costis's cock once, twice, at a steady slow pace.

"I wanted to try something," Irene says suddenly from near Costis's head, and Eugenides stills. His hand is still brushing up against Costis's cock, but when Costis squirms, Eugenides pulls it away and smacks him on the side of the hip.

"Hush," he orders, and Costis holds his breath. "Your queen is speaking."

Costis feels his face go hot and presses it against the pillow.

Eugenides remarks, "I was only joking, but if you like it that much—" and Irene laughs, while Costis gets steadily redder.

"What did you want to try?" Eugenides asks, perhaps taking pity on him.

"The gift you gave me last week," Irene says.

" _Oh_ ," comes the breathless response.

"What gift?" Costis asks, bringing himself up to his elbows.

"I thought he told you to hush," Irene says sharply, pushing down on his shoulder. Obediently, mouth dry, Costis goes.

He knows if he ever said "stop" they would in a heartbeat, but gods, he doesn't want to. There's something intoxicating about his fate being decided for him. The way they're talking above him in low, assured voices—like it's business, like they know they'll come to a conclusion and whatever it is, he'll do it.

Eugenides gets up from the bed—Irene touches Costis's head gently, preempting his forlorn noise of loss—and crosses to the dresser, where he opens the center drawer and reaches for the very back. Costis watches it all peering over his shoulder.

"I can see you peeking," Eugenides says, with his back to Costis.

Costis turns around swiftly, even as he grumbles, "You're not even looking."

"I am," Irene says coolly, and oh. That's right. Costis remembers where he is, and what they're doing, and the fight goes out of him.

"Sorry, my queen," he says, and sighs when she brushes the bangs away from his forehead.

Something falls to the bed next to him, and Costis shifts to turn and look, but Irene uses the hand in his hair to hold him still. "That's the one," Irene says, voice rich with satisfaction.

"I'm glad you mentioned it," Eugenides says, "because I was beginning to think you didn't like your gift."

Costis opens his mouth to _demand_ they tell him what the gift is, but then catches himself. No, he can be good.

"There," Irene says. "That wasn't so hard, hmm?"

Costis shivers, and as if in reward, he feels something smooth bump against the knuckles of his left hand. "What—" he says, knowing better than to turn his head with his queen's hand still warm and firm on his neck. Instead, he stretches his fingers out from their loose curl until they brush something...wood? Smooth and lacquered. Solid.

"Just feel it," Gen says, pushing whatever it is closer until Costis can fumble his way to wrap his hand around it. But when he does—oh, when he does, he knows.

"It's—" he says faintly, but he can't get it out. It's a phallus, of moderate length and slightly-more-than-moderate thickness, cool against his palm. It's _heavy_ , dense, and as his thumb rubs over the carved head, Costis idly wonders what kind of wood it's made out of. Then he thinks about the lengths Eugenides must have gone to commission this—his gifts are always personalized, never bought readymade—and flushes, hot.

Irene leans down to where he lays. "I wanted to fuck you," she says softly into his ear, her hair brushing his bare back, her breath on his face. Costis moans quietly. "Is that okay with you?" Her voice is still so soft, and the jasmine scent on her skin makes him dizzy, clouds his mind.

"Gods, yes," he says fervently, " _please_."

He feels Eugenides lay his hand possessively on the back of his thigh. "Spread these, sweetheart," he says, and Costis swallows hard as he obeys.

The hand slides up, Gen's thumb brushing under where Costis's thigh meets his ass. "My king," he says, shifting up to meet the touch.

"Patience," Eugenides says, moving his hand farther up until it's spanning one side of his ass, warm and so _present_. Costis feels all the muscles in his lower body bunch, before he forces himself to relax. Eugenides rubs his hand up and down slightly, soothing. "Good."

He takes his hand away and Costis frowns with displeasure, until he feels another set of hands reach behind and spread him open. He moans, surprised. Irene's hands are cooler than his, as always, soothing on his overheated skin; her touches are firm, and Costis's entire body flushes even hotter. He can feel his muscles going loose as he sinks boneless into the bed, and he wonders if it'll be easy after all for them to get him ready, if they'll just be able to slick up and slide right in—

"Ready?" Eugenides asks in a low voice, and Costis shudders, nodding against the bedspread.

The first finger goes in easy, so maybe Costis wasn't entirely wrong. It's small, practically nothing (and besides, it's not like he hasn't done this to himself before) and Costis arches his back for another.

"Shameless," Eugenides says. Costis's stomach twists, and he doesn't know if it's with embarrassment or pride. It feels like both.

His breath hitches in his chest when Eugenides adds a second finger. It's a tighter stretch, and it burns, a little, but it's also _good_.

While he's still adjusting to it, Eugenides says, "Tell me if you need me to stop," and pushes in a third.

Costis cries out, sharp, and his hands become fists around the sheets. " _My king_ ," he pleads, and Eugenides bestows a kiss on his burning neck. He crooks his fingers and Costis groans, his toes curling. He's not loose and relaxed anymore, every inch of him singing with _too much, too much, too_ —

He doesn't notice that Irene has pulled her hands off his ass until she's lifting his head with a firm grip on his chin. "You will tell him to stop," she asks—no, demands.

"Don't stop," Costis begs, "please, keep going."

"I'm stretching you out properly," Eugenides says. "You said you wanted everything, right?"

"Yes," Costis gasps, not sure where Eugenides is leading him, but willing to follow, as always. He turns his face to the side; it's getting hard to breathe.

Eugenides drops to his elbow so he can look him in the eyes. "Think you can take us both?"

Costis freezes, mouth open.

"Don't break him," Irene says lightly, from his other side, and Costis's brain starts working again.

"Please," he says, "would you?" He swallows, hard, and clenches accidentally around Eugenides's fingers, sending a shock of sensation up his spine. "Both of you?"

"I asked, didn't I?" Eugenides smiles. He pulls his fingers out, and Costis stifles a disappointed noise. "Who first, sweetheart?"

Costis averts his eyes. "You."

"Ouch," Irene says.

Costis turns red. "I didn't mean—"

"You misunderstand, my love," Eugenides says, smiling at him knowingly. "I think our Lieutenant wants to finish with you."

Irene inhales sharply. "Ah," she says, warm and pleased, and Costis _burns_ , he's never—he's never wanted it this much.

"Up," Eugenides directs him, and Costis shifts awkwardly until he can get his hands and knees under him. His limbs feel watery, like they might not support him entirely. His palms sting slightly from where his nails had pressed into them.

He spreads his legs wider.

"Good boy," Eugenides says, and if Costis cries out at that, at least he can blame it on Eugenides pushing in at the same time.

They've been fucking for months, now, but they've never _fucked_ him before. He wasn't prepared for the way it would overwhelm him, having Eugenides's wiry body pressed up against his back as his cock presses into him, inexorable, suffusing him with heat. He breaks out into a sweat.

Eugenides pulls out slowly and then thrusts back in, and Costis's arms give out. He catches himself on his elbows, but it's too late, his balance is gone, and all the breath leaves his lungs on the next thrust.

"How is it, dearest?" Eugenides pants. "Is it how you wanted it?"

Costis can't answer, so he uses the little bit of leverage he has to push back for more.

Eugenides laughs in his ear. "Noted."

He picks up the pace, then, drawing out almost all the way before driving back in. He's moaning, quiet but _there_ , and Costis feels the satisfaction like wine. Maybe it's that that makes him lightheaded, or maybe it's the way he can't catch his breath.

"Stop for a second," Irene orders, and although with a quiet noise of protest, Eugenides obeys.

Costis drops his heads and breathes. "Why?" he gasps.

She smiles. "I just wanted to see."

Eugenides laughs, low and almost disbelieving. "Seen enough?

Irene nods. "You may continue."

It seems Eugenides takes this as motivation to tease even more, because when he starts up again, it's at a painfully slow pace.

" _Why_ ," Costis repeats, groaning.

"Because we like to see you beg," Eugenides answers, and Costis whines, trying to get his hands under him again so he can push back for _more_.

Eugenides huffs out a laugh and plants his hand in between Costis's shoulderblades, thrusting in _hard_.

" _Fuck_ ," Costis shouts, and loses his grip, collapsing back to his elbows. One more thrust and a well-timed push from Eugenides's hand, and his elbows give out too, leaving him flat against the bed, head buried in his arms, completely at Eugenides's mercy.

"That's it," Eugenides says, like this is how he'd wanted it all along. But then he says, "That's what you wanted, isn't it?" and oh. Oh.

Costis muffles his answering moan by biting his forearm.

Irene tugs on his hair again and he whimpers, tipping his head up to look at her. "Don't be quiet," she says, steely-voiced.

Costis shakes his head, overwhelmed, but when Eugenides enters him again what comes out is "Please, please, gods _please_ ," like his life depends on it.

"Better get ready, my queen," Eugenides says hoarsely, his motions getting less fluid, less consistent. "He'll need you soon."

Costis had almost forgotten that this was only the beginning, and the thought of it, the anticipation of it, of Irene _in_ him—

"Please," he begs, his gut clenching tight. He could come like this, he realizes, with only the slightest of touches to his aching cock. Maybe not even that. "Can I—"

"No," Irene says, sharp, implacable. Costis whimpers in protest but subsides, fighting to keep from grinding his hips against the mattress for some small relief. Instead, he goes pliant.

"Oh," Eugenides moans, and then Costis feels him come inside of him.

Eugenides pauses for only a second, forehead pressed to Costis's back while he shakes, before pulling out with a groan and flopping onto his back next to Costis.

Costis stays still, skin tingling, and waits.

"Oil, Eugenides," Irene says impatiently. Costis doesn't turn to look at her; he doesn't think he could stand it.

Eugenides curses colorfully before dragging himself upright, fumbling around for the bottle of oil. He tosses it to Irene and she catches it. There's the sound of the cork popping, then slick noises, and then silence.

Costis shifts, wanting, barely breathing. He feels the mattress shift as Irene lines up behind him and then—

("Get ready, sweetheart," Eugenides says, grinning.)

—and then she's pushing into him, blunt pressure at his hole, urging him open. It's so different from Eugenides's cock. Unnaturally smooth and frictionless, and cool to the touch, though it warms up quickly from the heat of his body.

But worst, or best, of all, is how hard and unyielding the wood is inside of him. Costis clenches around it, again and again, gasping, and each time all it does is impress upon him how thoroughly, how inexorably he's being filled.

It's perfect for Irene.

"Oh," she breathes, shaky, into the hollow of his spine. He wonders how it feels for her, if it's designed to bring her pleasure as well. It sounds like it, from the sharp, wanting noise she makes when she grinds into him, exploratory.

"Can you—" Costis begs, burying his face in the covers again. "Please—"

"Of course," Irene says, and pulls out almost all the way before thrusting back in to the hilt. Costis chokes on his next breath. Her first few thrusts are slow and thorough, exploratory, and Costis thrills at the thought that he may be the first she's done this to. He realizes, dazedly, that perhaps his king and queen aren't the only possessive creatures in this bed.

Irene gains speed, her hips hitting his ass swiftly with every stroke in. She isn't going easy on him—of course she wouldn't, not his queen—even though Eugenides has already had him, even though he's still open and hot and sensitive from it. She fucks him until he's sobbing from it, eyes squeezed tight but moisture leaking from the corners anyway, and he takes it happily and begs for more. Every thrust makes his nerves light up, until he's not sure whether what he's feeling is truly pleasure, or merely pain that his brain has confused for it. He decides, his aching cock jolted once again into the mattress, that it doesn't matter; he's going to come from it either way.

"May I—my queen, please—" Costis gasps, arching back to meet a particularly brutal thrust.

He feels a hand in his hair, and opens his eyes, blinks the tears out of them to see Eugenides, gazing down at him with impossible fondness. "My dear," he says warmly, "would you like to come?"

Costis whimpers in response, freeing one hand from its death grip on the bedcover to grasp pleadingly at Eugenides's wrist. "Please," he replies. "Oh, please."

Eugenides pauses and glances over Costis's shoulder, and Irene hums. "I suppose," she says.

"Go ahead, then," Eugenides says with a smile, stroking Costis's hair back from his face. "You can come, sweetheart."

Costis barely waits for him to finish saying it before he's tensing up and coming without a touch to his cock, Eugenides's hand on Costis's head his sole grounding presence in the storm. He goes tight around Irene, and she doesn't still, fucking him through it until he's crying out from overstimulation, hand a vise around Eugenides's forearm.

"Almost," Irene says tensely, leaning down over him until he can feel her breasts pressed against his back, her hair falling over his shoulder. "Almost there."

He could tell her to stop and she would, but instead he pushes back for more, wanting desperately to make her come but unable to get the words out.

"Gen—" Irene says, and Eugenides leans over Costis's back to kiss her, the sound of it making Costis tremble. A moment later, Irene stiffens against him, her breath coming in short, sharp _ah, ah_ s, before she stills.

Slowly, with painstaking care, she pulls out of him, soothing away his flinch with a hand on the back of his thigh. "You did very well," she murmurs, and Costis shivers.

Eugenides makes a small noise and leaves the bed, coming back with a cloth damp with water from the basin. The tender way he wipes Costis's face clean brings tears back to his eyes, and Eugenides brushes those away as well.

He passes the cloth to Irene, and she cleans Costis carefully but quickly, excess oil and Eugenides's spend, which makes Costis's face go hot again.

"All right, dearest?" Eugenides asks.

Costis nods, shutting his eyes tightly again. He butts his head lightly against Eugenides's thigh, until he laughs quietly and cards his hand through Costis's hair.

Eugenides turns his attention back to Irene. "Did you enjoy your gift, my queen?" he asks slyly.

Irene huffs, dropping down onto her back on the bed. It had surprised Costis at first, the graceless way she sprawled when she was worn out. Now, he takes it as a sign of a job well done.

"You know very well that I did," Irene says.

"I like to hear you say it," Eugenides replies.

When Costis turns to face Irene, he sees that her face is lit with a soft smile. "Yes," she says, stroking a hand over Costis's hip. "I enjoyed my gift very much."

**Author's Note:**

> as always, if you want to chat with me, i'm on tumblr as @pageleaf and twitter as @peakcaps ;)


End file.
